


Coffee, Love, No Pants

by TheNightwingBegins



Series: We Need More Britchell Arc [1]
Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Anders has a potty mouth, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, I Had To, I found it cute, I like the idea so much, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mitchell is a exasperated tall guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightwingBegins/pseuds/TheNightwingBegins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hm, I'm really not that good at fanfic writing yet, am I?</p><p>There IS swearing, but honestly, that's how it is.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Coffee, Love, No Pants

**Author's Note:**

> Hm, I'm really not that good at fanfic writing yet, am I?
> 
> There IS swearing, but honestly, that's how it is.

-  
-  
-  
-  
\--  
——  
Anders eyes twitched as the sun filtered through the open blinders, seeping through the closed eyelids of the Douchebag God. 

Fucking sun. 

The God outstretched his arm feeling around for the cold body of his roommate/boyfriend. Only to be disappointed to find nothing but sheets and a pillow. Shame, really, he could've poked Mitchell’s eye to wake him up. 

But Anders knew better. By the smell of bacon wafting into his messy room into his nose it meant that his vampire for a boyfriend had gotten sick of the sun on his skin, got out of bed and went to make breakfast for them.  
The thought of Mitchell, naked, the only article of clothing on him but a apron peaked his interest  
The Norse God decided to grudgingly get the fuck out of bed, ignore his morning wood, get some boxers on- nah, too lazy, and sneak up on his Mitchell.

—-

Mitchell didn't jump when a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, and a kiss was graced to one the bumps of his spine.  
” Anders, you understand that I can hear you from a mile away, you loud elephant.” The vampire felt a slight brush of lips on his back again, meaning Anders was being a big baby and pouting like a spoiled schoolboy. And then realized.  
“Anders. You’re not wearing pants, are you?”  
“Psssh, fuck pants. You've seen me naked before and you’ll see me naked again, Johnny boy.”  
” What did I tell you about calling me John?”  
“To not to, but when do I ever listen?”  
“Never, because you’re ego is clogging up most of your hearing.”  
Letting go of his boyfriend, Anders replied “C’mon, Dracula, don’t be so cold. And for all its worth, I LIKE the name John!”  
“But John is boring and normal! Practically everyone I knew in the past 122 years had the name!”  
“That also reminds me of something, John, do you want our bacon to be charcoal?”  
“Wh-? Fuck!” The taller of them spun his attention back on the perfectly fine pieces of meat on the stove.  
“You’re suck a dickhead.”  
Anders shrugged.” I’ve been called worse.”  
“I bet.” Muttered Mitchell, taking the bacon off the stove, putting the meat on a large plate, he walked over to the fridge to get some eggs. Meanwhile The God of Poetry went to make coffee.  
“Black, right?”  
” Yup.” Mitchell answered, cracking an egg into the hot pan.  
In ten minutes the coffee, eggs and toast were all done, ready to be served.  
Anders put two steaming cups on the mahogany table, one with the saying ‘Team Edward’ and the other ‘ Atheist 4 Life’. They were the first anniversary gifts.  
‘And very dumb ones at that.’ The short God thought humorously.  
The two had met under very weird circumstances. They had actually bumped into each other at the New Zealand airport, well, if you can call bumping each other Anders following Mitchell to the snack area and spilling coffee all over the vampires shirt. Which lead up to Mitchell slapping Anders. Hard. After both stopped arguing they sat outside of the airport, being kicked out by security, they started talking about theirs lives and such, and by then Anders really wanted to take the Irish man to his apartment and fuck him seven ways to Sunday.  
Long story short his Godly powers didn't work at all on the interesting bloke. That made The Norse God suspicious.

They had switched numbers, Anders called up Olaf, Olaf told Anders what Mitchell was, Anders was intrigued aroused by having a friend with benefits that had fangs, so Anders went to Mitchell’s hotel, told Mitchell he knew, had a hot make out session, got shoved away from Mitchell, saw, I shit you not, black eyes and fangs, there was a tense parting of ways- well, shit. ‘That wasn't a short inner monologue, now was it?’ Anders mused.  
In the end after large amounts of angst and yelling, getting thrown and pinned into walls, they finally fucked- I mean, came clean of their big secrets, and started living happily together in Anders awesome apartment. The Fucking End.  
A chin rested on Anders head.

“What’re you thinking ‘bout?” A husky voice was muttered in The Gods hair. A tan hand was rubbing his hip gently.

“N’thing, darling, now give us a kiss~”

“But your breath stinks.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true.”

“All the better reason to kiss me.”

Mitchell snorted as Anders turned to face the curly haired man, and leaned up for a kiss. Mitchell complied happily.

“You’re still naked, Anders.”

“ Yup.”

“Are you trying hint around?”

“Maybe.”

“ I'm taking your erection as a yes.”

“Whatever floats your boats, babe.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'll make multiple stories, if I can.
> 
> Also!! I did some math and figured out that I was wrong about Mitchell's age, he was 117 in 2008, so he should be 122 in 2013. Just FYI. Dunno how Anders is, maybe he's in his thirties or something...


End file.
